After putting out setlines for burbot yesterday (my first time trying, except through the ice) I checked the lines today and found three small burbot. I made several adjustments to make some of the lines longer and place them better in relation to the current. I'm excited to see what tomorrow brings!

I took these pictures while setting out lines for burbot near town. I really am still a fly fishermen, but this is the first liquid water we've had in 7 months, and desperate times call for desperate measures!

Truth be told, I have a dirty little secret... this burbot fishing is kind of fun.

In early May, when fly anglers in the lower 48 are kissing the Hendrickson hatch goodbye and welcoming in the Ephemerella sulphurs, interior Alaska is still in the midst of a season we call "break-up." With temperatures in the 50s and most of the snow gone at our altitude, it's no longer winter in Fairbanks. But it's not spring yet, either. The trees show no sign of green. The rivers, swollen with mountain snowmelt, are still choked with massive chunks of their meter-thick winter ice, crashing through the riffles and sharp bends in a thunderous racket as the river carries them down toward the Yukon and the Bering Sea.

If you think this does not sound like dry fly weather, you're right.

The first good fishing of the year is less delicate: it involves heavy spinning gear, ounces of lead, size 2/0 hooks, and dead, cut fish. The reward is the burbot, the world's only freshwater cod, a fish more delicious than its saltwater counterparts. I'm happy to catch burbot at any time of year, but they're especially sweet after 7 months of winter!